At first Asta had felt nothing but the glow of victory. Ha! She had shown him! He would never dare speak to her like that again!

As the moments passed, this feeling of satisfaction slowly ebbed, leaving behind it a strange feeling of emptiness.

Asta picked up the script Coldan had flung down in his fury. It seemed she would have to to learn her lines all by herself. Well, that should be easy enough: she practically knew the part already. Only, somehow she found it hard to concentrate. The image of Coldan's retreating back kept coming before her mind's eye. There was just too much noise and general distraction in the courtyard, that was the problem. She decided to go to her room.

Once there, however, Asta sat on her bed with the script on her lap, staring straight ahead and biting her lip.

It was not her fault, none of it was. Coldan had no business being insulted. Why, Dorwinion was practically in Rhûn! Asta had seen maps, and she knew. She had not meant to be cruel, not really. She had never meant to be cruel. True, it had always been fun to tease him by pretending to misunderstand his blushes and stammered compliments, or by getting him to run useless errands for her all the time, or... or by flirting with Aldarion right in front of him, but– it had been all just a game. Surely he knew that? Besides, who could blame her when Aldarion was so handsome and charming? Sometimes she thought she might actually be in love with him. Wasn't she?

With sudden cold clarity, Asta knew finally and definitely that she was not, and that it was just as well, for the man of Dol Amroth was surely just amusing himself with her, too. And now Coldan would never forgive her. Being called an Easterling was the one thing he would never forgive anyone.

Asta blinked, and sniffed, and blinked again, and to her own surprise gave way to a storm of weeping.